


What it's like to be Steve

by Minkey222



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Returns, Feels, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Menstruation, Oblivious Tony Stark, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Team as Family, Tony is a little shit, Trans Character, Trans Steve Rogers, Unintentional Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minkey222/pseuds/Minkey222
Summary: "You're bleeding," Natasha pointed out dryly, whilst attending to her own wound; wrapping a white bandage around her upper arm. Glancing down, his chest tight -and it was nothing to do with what he was wearing this time. Sure enough, there, running down his leg in red rivulets, was blood, staining his suit and making him feel sick.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Look it, I wrote a thing, guys. I know it's been seventy years, give or take, but I actually wrote whatever this is. I dunno. I started it ages ago and only finished it recently. Please comment or leave kudos, it really makes a girls day <3

"You're bleeding," Natasha pointed out dryly, whilst attending to her own wound; wrapping a white bandage around her upper arm. Glancing down, his chest tight -and it was nothing to do with what he was wearing this time. Sure enough, there, running down his leg in red rivulets, was blood, staining his suit and making him feel sick. The blood rushing from his face he muttered a weak excuse and left the room, the rest of his team’s - in various states of disarray- looks followed him as he left, concern obvious in their gaze. However, no one made to follow him and for that he was glad. He made his way quickly to his own room (or rather floor), his stomach churning and stripped down, discarding the soiled suit and cleaned himself up as best as possible, tears running sluggishly down his cheeks all the while. He sorted himself out and changed into more comfortable clothing- he didn’t pay much attention to it and flopped onto his bed in exhaustion. In his head, however, were flurries of thoughts and fears. He had been so careful, he had always been sure that he was always prepared and yet this happened. The mission had gone on for much longer than they had anticipated and now this- Steve sighed, no matter how much he tried it always came crashing down on him. His body always seemed to betray him. He may be a super-soldier, but even that couldn't fix everything. Not every problem could be solved with a fist to the face. He had put too much hope in the serum. He groaned and rolled over onto his front, hand beneath him pressing into his abdomen, face smothered into the pillow as the tears continued to flow. At some point, he heard the door open and light footsteps halting a few feet away from the bed. He pretended to sleep and the person slipped out like they had never been there in the first place. He hurt and he wanted to be left alone- _couldn’t they do that?_ But he supposed there was blood and his teammates had seen it and he had just run away. That seemed a bit suspicious for an injury; so he guessed that they had come to check that he hadn’t died. He hadn’t died- although he felt like he was dying- so they had left.

They wouldn’t know. It wasn’t on his forms- Erskine had changed them all.

 

He’d fallen asleep at some point. His hand cramping up after he slept on it until the next morning. Stretching out and flexing his numb fingers, Steve rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood slowly. He knew logically that it shouldn’t hurt him, that the serum had heightened pain resistance but he guessed as Erskine had said to him so many years ago, the good because better and the bad became worse- or something like that. He decided on the fly to avoid getting dressed properly, instead opting to stay in the sweats that he had changed into the day before. He shuffled out of his room and, after grabbing an apple, got the elevator down to the shared room, sparing a glance at the clock on the way in, 11:40. He supposed that everybody would be done there- He was right. Sat on the various sofas were his teammates, all in varying states of dress, for example there was Clint, who was spread out across one sofa, his head resting on Natasha lap, who was also still in the novelty pajamas that they had bought his for his birthday- The one’s with the birds on them. This was, of course, a contrast to Natasha who was fully clothed and looked as if she’s been outdoors. Perhaps she had, maybe he’d talk to her later. Turning his focus away from them he moved slowly towards the kitchen, taking a bite out of the apple in his hand as he went. He then proceeded to sink down onto one of the stools and then once he had finished the apple and thrown the core into the bin he rests his head on the cold slab in front of him, one arm supporting his forehead and the other forcing its way against his stomach which currently felt like it would explode any second; which he was sure it would do as long as it hadn’t already done that. He stayed in that position for ten minutes, his mind on other things when he felt a small hand rest lightly on his back. Moving his head to the side but not lifting it up he looked blearily at Natasha.

“Are you alright?” She asks good-naturedly. He nods his confirmation and she nods back, turns away and puts a kettle onto boil. She turns back to him and looks at his quizzically, a little crease between her eyebrows becoming pronounced and her mouth downturns before she opens her mouth to say something but he attention it turned away from him when the kettle begins to screech. By this point, the marble counter has begun to irritate him and he lifts his heavy head and moves his way out from the kitchen before Natasha turns back around.

He spares a glance at his friends, who all seem to be watching a movie of some sort. Clint is craning his neck at some impossible angle to see the screen and Tony is complaining loudly to Bruce as he throws popcorn kernels at the TV. He shakes his head and decides instead that he has had enough of this for the day.

 

Getting back in the elevator Steve stares at the button panel for longer than he should but then chooses to not go back to his floor and crawl back into his very inviting bed but to instead get out, maybe go for a walk. The exercise should do him good. The streets of New York are loud and crowded and just a little bit too much for his to handle right now so his takes a different turning down a backroad that smells just a little bit like piss but he just wrinkles his nose and tries not to notice it. He continues walking down these roads until he arrives unconsciously outside of Sam’s flat. Shrugging his shoulders he walks to his door and knocks, not really expecting an answer. He is surprised, however, when Sam, who is sweaty and wiping his face with a towel, opens the door with a smile.

“Man, I missed you this morning.” He says with a joking lilt to his voice and he motions him into his apartment. Shaking his head again, Steve smiles lightly, realising he had indeed slept through his morning run.

“Dude, what’s eating you? You look like someone burnt the flag or something,” Sam said as he threw the towel onto the counter from where he was standing.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” He replied and Sam just looked at him disbelieving.

“Yeah, and I’m the president of America. So spill,” Sam said it in such a way that left no room for argument. But just as Sam was determined, Steve was stubborn so just left it at,

“It’s personal.” Sam agreed to drop it.

After that, they just spent the afternoon talking about anything and everything but soon enough time had come where Steve just wanted to go to bed and sleep for another seventy years. So he said his goodbyes and started on the walk back to the tower.  On his was up in the elevator he realised he hadn’t eaten anything other than that one apple that morning and he was decidedly hungry, therefore he made a quick stop on the shared floor to grab a snack. He expected everyone to have gone back to their own floors, what he didn’t count on was the fact that Tony and Clint were clearly drunk, empty bottles around them laughing over a piece of fabric which, upon further inspection, was his sports bra. His blood ran cold.

_Shit._

He contemplated just turning and walking out without the two of them noticing but that idea was brought crashing to the ground when just as he was turning around Tony’s loud voice shouted out to him across the room,

“Hey, there’s the man we were looking for! Steve, why don’t you come and join us?” Cringing inwards Steve plastered a forced smile on his face and tries to make himself look just a little bit less pissed. He wasn’t sure if Tony or Clint had even noticed how he was feeling as it looked as if they were both too drunk to notice. He moved over to the table where the duo was sat and smiled a little at Tony but it came out as more of a grimace. Tony didn’t notice or didn’t care because he just smiled widely at him before clapping his on the back and chuckling before taking another sip from his almost empty glass.

“Where have you been then?” Clint asked, slightly more critical but still loose.

“Out,” He replied clipped, pointedly staring at the offending piece of clothing on the table in front of him.

“Say, where did you get that?” His tone was almost nervous, his voice cracking slightly, as he gestured in the general direction of the item. He coughed to clear his throat and looked at both of the men he was seated with. Tony started to laugh.

“You see, that was a funny story actually,” He paused to take another sip from his drink, then glaring into the empty glass, “I and Clint were having a couple drinks, you know as we do when we thought ‘Hey, where’s Cap gone?’ So I went up to your floor and when you weren’t there I thought that you were sleeping or something” He blinked clumsily at him, making him wonder how much the two had actually drunk, “and so I walked into your room and I tripped over something. I looked down and lo’ and behold,” He lifted to bra up and Steve tried to not flinch “It was this!”

Steve looked away to try and keep his blush down- But Tony wasn’t done.

“You’ve obviously been holding out on us, Cap! So what’s her name?” He shared a look with Clint and the two of them started to laugh loudly about something he didn’t understand. Wiping a tear away, Tony turned to look at him with a half-serious, half-joking face,

“But seriously, Cap, who is she. I mean, guessing by the size she must be big and I’m pretty sure that I would have noticed you bring her in,” Steve looked away again and Tony had a weird look on his face, “Not that we’d judge if she was big, you know. Women are great in every size,” He smirked at Clint and the laughter started up again- And this time Steve couldn’t keep down his blush.

“Or what? Is it yours? I’ve got to admit if it is that’s pretty funny. To be fair, you probably have better tits than most chicks I’ve met,” Steve felt the blood run from his cheeks as the words fell out of Tony’s mouth and he stared at him, the words he knows running around and around in his head,

“That’s pretty impressive considering that you’re a dude,” Relief flooded through him as he understood.

“So what is it?” Clint asked this time and both men looked at him expectantly.

“None of your business” He replied as he snatched the offending item up in one swoop and walked swiftly out of the room and straight into the elevator; Completely missing the concerned looks the two shared behind his back.

 

Once he was safely in the elevator he sagged down, his grip unconsciously tightened around the bra. He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head slightly. He couldn’t believe that he had just thrown it on the floor where anybody could have found it, but he’d removed it so quickly the day before when he got changed after getting back, he’d just left it there so he’d remember to wash it later. Look how that had turned out for him.

He was broken from his thoughts when the door opened onto his floor. He went straight to his bedroom and didn’t come out until the next morning.

 

Groggily he woke up the next morning realising that he hadn’t changed clothes since the fight two days before and he stank. Grimacing, Steve pulled himself out of his warm cocoon and into the slightly colder room and then into the freezing the bathroom. Shivering, he called out,

“Jarvis, can you turn the heating on in here,” the unembodied voice replied not a second later,

“Of course, Steve,” and he sighed contentedly as the fans blew warm air into the small, tiled room. Relaxing for a second he then proceeded to peel off each dirty layer of clothing throwing them onto the ground. He didn’t think that it was possible to be so dirty after only a couple of days. He felt gross but to be fair he always felt gross during his weeks so it was completely subjective. Sparing only a glance at himself in the mirror, he felt disgusted at the curves he saw there, so he turned away and instead stepped into the warm spray of water, letting it wash away his troubles. He stayed there for a good half hour before Jarvis spoke again,

“Sir, sorry to interrupt you, but you have been requested to join the team in the lounge,” He groaned, of course, they wanted him.

“Thank you, Jarvis. Tell them I’ll be down in a minute,” He finished up quickly and redressed in some clean clothes, placing his dirty ones in the hamper in his room. Walking vaguely fast, he grabbed a snack to eat on his way down and arrived down in the shared lounge in no time. Smiling slightly at them as he walked in, he noticed that it wasn’t anything serious, it just looked like a shared meal. He looked down at the half-eaten cereal bar in his hand and sighed.

“Hey, Steve!” Tony didn’t look hungover, nor did he sound it- But Steve was certain he saw him drunk of his face. Looking to the other sofa, Natasha and Clint had resumed their normal position, Clint’s head resting in Natasha’s lap and whilst the redhead was reading what looked to be a  hardcover Russian book as she lazily stroked Clint’s hair. Clint, however, looked like death warmed over, pale and slightly green he looked worse the wear. The pizza’s on the table looked appetising, his stomach finally realising that he hadn’t eaten a proper meal since he got back and growling in response. He strode over to the sofas and plopped himself down in an empty one, reaching for a slice and leaning back, relishing in the greasy food.

“So I’m guessing this is what you called me down here for,” He said finally after finishing his slice, noticing that everybody's eyes were on him rather than whatever show they had up on the screen, he shrank back into himself every so slightly, that if you hadn’t been looking for it, you wouldn’t have noticed the small movement, but his teammates were looking for it so they did see.

“Guys?” he tried to move their attention away from him and onto… him. It sounded weird but it’s what he was trying to do. He squirmed under their scrutiny. The tiny crease had moved back between Natasha’s eyebrows.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, again trying to catch their attention and they finally broke out of whatever trance they had been in. Natasha was the first to come back to herself, shaking her head lightly she smiled softly at him, the strange gaze never leaving him.

“We just haven’t seen you for a while, Steve,” She said, an odd tone in her voice. The rest of them followed suit and each broke out of their trance.

“Yeah,” he just breathed out, still feeling uncomfortable under their gazes but at least they stopped staring. He was pretty sure that Clint had fallen asleep, he shook his head, grabbed another slice of pizza. He frowned when he saw there were only a couple slices left and so he decided to grab the entire box and use it as a plate instead. After having stuffed 2 more slices down his throat, he heard a light chuckle which he was sure he wouldn’t have heard if he didn’t have super hearing, he looked up cluelessly looking very much like a hamster with the slices stuffed in his cheeks. He looked around and saw Natasha looking at him amused, this time much softer, as she chuckled at his antics. Steve’s face reddened and he gave her a sheepish smile and swallowed the remainder. They team spent the rest of the afternoon uneventfully, just spending time in each others company. Pepper even found the time to join them and she settled right in, curled up against the edge of the sofa next to Tony. They binge-watched several movies, people getting up to get popcorn every so often until they all realised it was dinner time. They ordered in Indian this time and they all tucked in. Dinner was a cacophony of sounds, a chorus of laughter and banter and Steve participated in a heated debate with Tony about something or other- It _had_ made sense at the time. But eventually, Steve felt tired out and so he excused himself, politely declining the guys’ offer for some drinks he headed back up to his room, getting changed and then curling up into a ball under his warm covers.

 

He slept for a good couple hours before the noise of his door creaking open woke him up, his eyes adjusting to the dark, he squinted at the dark figure standing in the doorway. It was Natasha.

“Sorry, for waking you. I just wanted to wait for everyone else to go to their rooms,” Natasha said in way of apologising. Flicking on a lamp by his bedside he responded,

“No, no, it’s okay,” and he gestured for her to come in.

“So what’s up?” He questioned once he got a good look at her face.

“Steve, you may not like this, but I thought you wouldn’t want the others knowing,” She moved the file into the light and he saw his own name on the cover and a shield logo with the word ‘PRIVATE’ written in bold red letters underneath. His heart hammered against his ribcage because he had an inkling as to where this was going. She handed the file to him and he took it with a barely concealed tremor in his hands. Opening it up he felt that it was new and he worried about what was going to be in it.

“It just surfaced, I found out and deleted all the other copies that I could,” He nodded absently as he flicked through the leaves of paper. Sure, he’s read his file before, he knew what was public, what they had on him, that was of course before the info-leak that happened recently. So he knew instantly when he found a page that was different to his usual file. Printed in a new format, Steve knew that this wasn’t his usual file and there facing up at him was his picture with a clear ‘F’ marking for female in the space right underneath his name. His throat started to close up. As he kept reading. It stated in plain facts about him and the changes that he had undergone and yet it noted nothing on the struggle. He felt _sick_. Looking up for a split second to look at her, he just about managed to force out,

“Thank you, for telling me,”before he turned his gaze back to the file. He flicked through the pages that were all the same as his normal file until a picture fell from between the pages onto the bed. He picked it up delicately between two fingers and there staring up at him from the sepia coloured photograph was him, all done up stood by Bucky’s side, laughing, his hair pinned up into a wave and if he remembered the lipstick he had painted on so precisely had been red. The dress he was wearing had been his mother’s and he had loved it back then, even though everything just felt _wrong_. It was, of course, before the serum- maybe even before the war. He sighed bittersweetly and fingered the dog-eared corner. Then handing it over to Natasha.

“I’d loved him, you know.” Steve said sadly, “I don’t know if he ever knew quite how much I loved him, but I did. ‘Til the end of the line. And even after.” He sighed

“I don’t think I ever stopped loving him, not even for a moment,” He looked back up to meet Natasha’s quick look up and he saw sympathy in her eyes.

“Is this you then?” He knows it’s a benign question, he knows she can tell. It’s what she was trained to do. But he understands.

“Yeah, that was me. I don’t think it mattered as much as it did back then, as odd as that sounds, but as long as he was with me it didn't bother me quite as much.” She hummed in agreement, still holding the worn photograph tenderly, her fiery hair almost glowing in the yellow light of his bedside lamp.

“I don’t think I’ll ever love another quite like I did him. He was my everything and with all my heart, I truly did,” He shook his head and Natasha passed the photograph back over to him. Then, once he held the memory safely in his grip, she placed her own smaller hands over his making him look her in the eyes.

“When you have something like that, Steve, you never let it go,” They shared a few more moments like that, another odd look in Natasha’s stare, then she patted his hands softly and stood up and left the room like she had never been there in the first place, leaving Steve alone in the warm glow, feeling colder than he ever had before but his heart felt oddly warm. He didn’t know what to make of this. His closely guarded secret, the one he kept under lock and key had been forced into the open and exposed for anyone to see and Natasha had seen. She’s caught a glimpse of the man who had been worn down over almost a century of loss. He didn’t know what to make of it. Rolling over he put the file in his bedside table drawer and then with gentle fingers he placed the photograph on top of it so that if he opened his drawer he would just be able to see Bucky’s smiling face and warm embrace. He had so always loved the little crinkle he’d get in the corners of his eyes when he laughed. He had hated it, always said it made him look older but he could watch it all day. It was all his fault that it was gone now, he missed him so much. He didn’t think that it was fair that Bucky had suffered so much and here he was.

Laying down all he could think about was Bucky’s hands slipping through his. He shivered. Tears flowing out of his eyes, he cried himself to sleep.

 

“Sir, Tony has asked for you at Shield headquarters,” the British voice woke him, tears dried on his cheeks, he roughly rubbed them away and dragged himself out of the warm bed and into the vaguely chilly room. He thoroughly felt gross. Shuffling across the room, rubbing his hands together for warmth he changed into some clean clothes and, after walking out of his room and grabbing  a snack, he pulled on some shoes.Taking the elevator all the way down and hopping onto his Harley, he drove out of the building- wishing he had looked at the clock on his way out as it was dark out. He hated not knowing things. He wondered why he had been summoned this early too because it must not be an emergency since he hadn’t needed the suit and Jarvis hadn’t said anything with urgency. Soon enough he finally made it to the Headquarters and parked his bike, lightly jogging to the door he was allowed in without identification and was ushered into a room where Tony and Natasha stood looking out of what looked to be a window down into another room.

“What’s going on?” He asked worriedly and only Tony turned to face him. Inclining his head towards the window, he replied,

“We thought you ought to see this,” Walking over to the window showed him a pristine, white hospital room with several doctors and nurse rushing in and out. He could see Bruce stood in the corner and in the centre of the room was a large man, but he couldn’t see the face and another doctor was talking to him. When the doctor moved out of the way, however, Steve involuntarily stepped back. Gasping, Steve blinked and breathed out,

“ _Bucky_ ,”

Then once he had his wits about him again, he rushed towards the glass and pressed his face against it, his hands flat on the barrier, Steve looked like a child who saw a toy in the window of their favourite shop, his breath condensing on the glass. He knew he looked ridiculous but he didn’t care. He wanted to be able to see him, _all of him_ . Looking closely, Steve thanked the God’s for his near perfect eyesight and eidetic memory. He looked almost the same, the same eyes, same hands- hand, he rectified. Same broad shoulders. Steve had to shut his eyes, which were watering, as he smiled- properly smiled, actually, physically _smiled_ a smile that hurt his cheeks. He didn’t believe it. It was Bucky. _His Bucky_ . Sitting there, alive, worse for wear, but _alive_. He wanted to rush down there but his still rational mind told him the sheer amount of doctors surrounding him and the restraints he could see if he looked hard enough were there for a reason. Stepping back, Steve wiped the tears off of his face once more and turned to the two other people in the room.

“What happened? When did you find him?” He asked eagerly, his hands shaking slightly.

“He came in last night. Tony was alerted to a presence in the tower that wasn’t any of us,” Natasha finally spoke.

“Yeah, and when I went down he was just calmly sitting on my chair. No weapons. I scanned him first obviously and then brought him here. He didn't try to attack or anything, but better safe than sorry,” Tony shrugged and turned back to the scene.

“He’s been here for a few hours, they’re checking him to see if he can be trusted- to some degree,” Natasha explained and she too turned back to the window. Steve moved his gaze back onto Bucky and he could see that he looked uncomfortable and open, not that anyone else could read him like he could. He chuckled. Bucky always hated hospitals. The number of people, the lack of privacy- not that it would bother him after the war, but mostly the fact that he was constantly worried about Steve. If he wasn’t in there with him at all times then who knew what he’d get up to. Steve always complained that he could look after himself and that he wasn’t just about to keel over and Bucky would just reply.

“Yeah, I know, I just want to be there in case something does happen, punk,”

And he’d smile at him in just the right way that made his insides turn to jelly and he’d want nothing more than to just kiss it off of his stupid face. Eventually, he got to. Smiling at the memory he noticed that Tony had been trying to get his attention.

“Steve?” Tony was waving his hand in front of his face. Breaking out of his trance, he turned his attention to Tony, who rolled his eyes when he finally caught him.

“Finally, _loverboy_. You want to go see him?” He said with a hint of bemusement. Blushing at the nickname, it took all of his restraint to not just run out of the room and go down there himself and instead to just nod and follow Tony down at a more reasonable pace. But when he did get down there, he didn’t care that so many people were watching him, once he caught Bucky’s eye he was off. Bucky’s face softened and showed unadulterated relief and joy.

“Steve?” He asked as if he wasn’t really there.

“Bucky?” He breathed out.  “ _Fuck_ I missed you,” and there was nothing else. He was in Bucky’s arms holding on for dear life, breathing in his scent which was still the same after so many years. Who knew what he’s been through on his own but if it meant that he was here with him he was happy that it happened, even if it meant he was being horribly selfish, he didn’t care. As long as he was back in Bucky’s arms then the past didn’t matter. They could work through it together.

“How? What happened?” He all but whispered into the crook of Bucky’s neck.

“Long story,” God, he even sounded the same, breathing a sigh of happiness. Steve sunk further into Bucky’s embrace, if that was even possible until they were both relying on each other to stay standing up. He knew that they had hugged way too long for even two friends who haven’t seen each other for seventy-odd years to hug, but neither of them cared.

“I have a long time, tell me,” And dear lord, did he want to understand. They had forever together now, he wanted to know. He needed to know and Bucky understood his need. So he laid his story out for him, not leaving out a single detail and told him everything. He may have cried and held on to his Bucky with everything in him, holding on hard enough to bruise- they both needed it. It was nothing compared to the horrors that he had lived. He gulped down hard and looked to the heavens.

“I missed you, jerk,” Steve choked out,

“You too, punk,”

 

Bucky was eventually released under supervision and Steve instantly offered his ‘couch’ to Bucky. No hesitation- he needed him near. Tony agreed, albeit reluctant to allow Bucky into his tower, but understanding, of Steve’s need and the fact that it wasn’t _Bucky_ who’d killed his parents but _the Winter Soldier_ instead. He’d understand. Steve was sure. Once the arrived back at the tower Steve introduced Bucky to the team and everyone got on well, though Bucky swore he knew Natasha from somewhere, but eventually Steve pulled Bucky into the elevator to go up to his floor, wanting to show his the accommodation and the rest is history. They didn’t come down until the next morning. Spending the evening sharing memories and soft touches, showing each other exactly how much they had missed one another.

 

Waking up the next morning in the arms of his Bucky he didn’t want to get up, but he knew he had to. It didn’t feel real when he got up and watched the sleeping face of his best boy. He smiled- it felt like a dream, he thanked the heavens. Pulling on his sweats he crept out of the room, determined to not wake Bucky, who looked almost angelic whilst he slept. He walked out of the room and he pulled on his shoes, not realising that he _had_ woken Bucky, who had now joined him. Bucky placed his hands on his hips and spun him around.

“Good morning,” And placed a peck on his cheek.

“How do you feel about breakfast?” He replied and kissed him on the lips this time.

“Great,” He smiled into the kiss and then broke apart, walking to the elevator together. The atmosphere was content and relaxed. A comfortable silence drifted over them as they descended.

The team was all there when they walked into the lounge and the scene was still as relaxed as ever. Walking to the kitchen they both grabbed breakfast and then proceeded to sit on an empty couch together, Steve’s feet propped up on the area beside him, resting against Bucky’s tight. Bucky sighed contentedly and ate quickly, finishing his food and placing the empty bowl on the coffee table, he then placed his left hand on Steve’s feet, rubbing ever so slightly now and again. The team watched the proceedings, noting that not only Bucky looked relaxed but Steve did too, for the first time since they had met him, he looked truly comfortable and tranquil. They all smiled at the two boys. It was obvious that they loved each other, it was obvious in Steve’s slight smile and Bucky’s rhythmic hand movement. Steve was oblivious to the audience, Bucky not so much- but he didn’t mind. Tony, however, couldn’t go without saying anything.

 

“So,” He began, giving a look to Clint, who just snickered, “Yesterday you left pretty quickly. I went to check on you and,” a raise of his eyebrow, “I heard some pretty interesting noises” a smirk, “So,” He paused to take a breath, “Who took it up the arse?” He snickered and Steve felt his cheeks redden. “I bet it was _Stephanie_ over there, I bet _she_ loved it, sounded like _she_ did”.

Everything stopped.

His knuckles started to turn white; his joints screaming in protest to the tight grip he held on the arm of the couch. His gaze turned dark and troubled but Tony seemed oblivious to that, he mustn’t know- He can’t know. His cheeks turned an angry red as he set down the bowl he was holding in fear of smashing it. He knew it was only a word- a name- but it sent him back to a time where it was thrown at him like an insult, like a weapon. It was a time where people had rejected him because they didn’t understand. Tears started to gather in his eyes and his hand started to shake, the couch creaking under the pressure of his hold. Tony may have been oblivious but the rest of the team weren’t and you could almost cut the tension with a knife because it’s not every day that Captain America gets like this in front of you- especially for ‘no reason’. Looking in Nat’s eyes, she understood. Just did he have to call him-

“ _Stephanie_ ,” He all but growled out, the word not fitting in his mouth and almost choking him. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way about a name but he just can't help it. Just it was getting too close, too near to something he didn’t want to explain. One person was okay, two is pushing it but _everyone_? He can’t. He’s not that strong.

“Don’t call me _Stephanie_ ,” He swallows hard and almost can’t force the name out again. He can feel Bucky’s cool hand on his shoulder now and he knows Bucky understands, he _knows_ \- he lived it with him all those years ago. Just managing to turn his gaze to Bucky’s face he can see the vein that pops out when he is not angry, but furious and he knows that if looks could kill, Tony would be dead a thousand times over. The protectiveness Bucky is exuding calms him slightly but he is still on edge and hostile. Turning his view back to Tony, he looks confused, his eyebrows pushed together and his mouth hanging open.

“Wha-?” His tone odd.

“Please,” He begs, “Don’t- Just don’t call me that,” a tear runs down his cheek and he stands abruptly, walking away from them all. He can hear shouting, the protective voice of Bucky, the collected voice of Nat and the confused voice of Tony all float towards his ears as he stops in the kitchen, getting a glass of cool water. Drinking it down quickly, he sets the glass down with an audible _clink_ , before sighing and rubbing his hand over his tight eyes.

_What has just happened?_

 

He’s aware of a presence beside him and he realises the noise has calmed down. Expecting to look over to see Bucky he’s surprised to see Natasha instead.

“I know it’s not my place to say anything but I think you should tell them,” She says softly, “It would stop things like this from happening,” She places her hand on his shoulder much like Bucky just had.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” He looks at her with sad eyes,

“I know. Only _you_ know what’s best for _you_ ,” He nods at her and she smiles slightly back.

“Thanks” He whispers, his look grateful.

“No problem,” She removes her hand and walks out silently.

_Should he?_

Taking a deep breath in he steadies himself. _He can do this_. Quickly running back up to his bedroom he pulls open his bedside table and grabs the delicate photograph he had so lovingly placed there and walks back down the shared room. Looking over the scene, everything is tense after the previous blow up, he can see that Bucky is ready to defend, as is Nat. Tony is bristled and ready to fight and Bruce and Clint are confused and weary, unsure as to how things are going to go down. A complete change to what it had been when they first walked down there this morning.

Slowly, he retakes the empty space next to Bucky and holds the photo with a deathlike grip, he takes a deep breath and catches Nat’s quizzical look, giving her a brief nod.

“I have something that I want to tell you,” Bucky places his hand over his still tremoring ones. Tony opens his mouth as if to say something but is silence by not one but two death glares as he fights to find the words to say. Instead, he opts to place the photograph on the table in front of him.

“That was me.” He nods towards it as Tony picks it up, Steve chuckles humorlessly at the guilty look on Tony’s face as he registers the meaning.

“I’m so sorry if I’d known…” He trails off as he hands it to Clint who hands it to Bruce.

“It’s alright,” He responds. He didn’t know, he hadn’t meant any harm, even though it hurt- and it did, it hurt _so_ much.

“But it’s not, Steve, and I’m so sorry,” He just smiled at him and that was the end. The photo was passed back to him and they all settled into a more relaxed environment, someone chose a movie to watch and they spent the day as they had the day before. He was surprised that there hadn’t been a threat or an attack or anything in what? Four days? He didn’t know. He was just glad for it.

 

So, he guessed, that’s why he wasn’t that shocked when Tony silently passed him his tablet just after they had finished eating dinner, several hours later.

 

**_“CAPTAIN AMERICA ACTUALLY A WOMAN?_ **

**_Read more on pg…”_ **

 

The title shocked him enough but he continued onwards.

 

**_“An anonymous source has recently come forwards with some pieces of information that shine real light on America’s no.1 Icon. Is Captain America really a woman? That’s we try to uncover in this issue of AMERICA’S TOP SECRETS. The information anonymously sent in provided us with the real government file on our favourite Captain. Now this file looked ordinary enough and we here almost didn’t read it but we’re glad we did. At first glance, it looked all in order until you get to the good stuff. On the description page, we found that under the sex category it ticked not male but female. Now, of course, we thought this was a mistype or an edit until we saw this. Pictured above is an image we haven’t been privy to… Until now. Yes, ladies and gentlemen,that is indeed America’s national hero in a dress!”_ **

 

He couldn’t read anymore. He just knew, though, he just knew this would happen after Nat had told him that his SHIELD files had been leaked, the original ones, the ones no one but fury had access to. Shutting his eyes, he silently passes the tablet to Bucky who reads it and has an equally angry face.

“What do I do now?” He asks, shaking his head. He swears the world is out to get him. It gives him one good thing and then rains bad things down on his head. But honestly, he’d go through this a thousand times if it means that he gets to keep Bucky forever. Tony gets handed the tablet back and he frowns down at it.

“I mean, we could delete it, write it off as a hoax from people trying to ‘deface you’” He looks contemplative,

“No, too many people have shared it, near millions since it was uploaded, and the photograph. It’s real, can’t write that off,” He hummed thoughtfully. Maybe he should…

“No matter what Steve, we’ll back you,” Clint added. He and Bruce had been so quiet he’d forgotten that they were there. He just mutely nodded at them.

“I want to tell everybody,” Shaking his head, he knew it was a stupid idea, but maybe, just maybe it’d take this weight off of his chest.

“Alright, if that’s what you want to do. I’ll call Pep,” Tony leaves the room, his phone to his ear. Bucky squeezes his hand reassuringly. They all continue watching the end of the film they forgot about before when Tony walks back and nods at Steve.

“It ready to go, national news, tomorrow morning at 8.”  Steve breathes in heavily and gives a watery smile showing him his thanks. Eventually, they finish the movie and Steve head up to his room, followed by Bucky.

“You know, I’m proud of you, Steve, Your Ma would be too,”

 

He wakes up the next morning full of trepidation. He’s not ready for this and yet he has to be. Dressing up in his suit, like he always does for things like this, he gets ready silently. Bucky wakes up too eventually and also dresses, not daring to break to silence. He claps him on the back soon enough, signalling that they need to get going now or they won't make it in time. They pull on their shoes and wait for the Stark issued vehicle to pick them up. Steve can't stop bouncing his leg as his nerves take over but Bucky just places his hand on his knee and he stops. Squeezing it slightly before they get out, Steve readies himself and walks into the studio, going through the motions of getting kitted out until eventually, he has to be on set. Bucky waits off side, just so Steve can see him. Sitting down he hears the

 

_‘FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE AND WE’RE LIVE’_

 

He puts on a fake smile to hide how scared he really is.

“So, Captain, welcome to Good Morning America, how are you feeling today?” The presenter asks in an overly happy tone. He smiles tensely at her,

“I’m good and you?” He adds in a similar tone.

“I’m good too, thank you. So I hear that you’re here to discuss the recent scandal that been spreading around,” She asks, a fake smile on her face,

“Yes, indeed I am,” He takes another deep breath,

“Brilliant. So what’s your comment on it? Is it real?” The presenter leans forwards, gently resting her chin on her hand, a fake look on her face. Steve breathes in. He doesn’t know if he can do this. He suddenly panics, _he can’t, he can’t do this, he can’t-_ He catches Bucky’s reassuring eye.

_He can do this._

“Yes, it is real. I wanted to use this opportunity to say,” He pauses and the presenter hangs on his every word,

“I, Steve Rogers, Captain America, was born with the body of a woman and I’m proud of it,”

The look on her face is worth the effort it took to say those words.

So is the look in Bucky’s eyes.

He _is_ proud.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Bad ending, I know, whatever. Again please leave comments.


End file.
